


funny how a blessing feels like a curse

by Goatalicious



Category: Claymore (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author is bad at tenses, Awkward warrior monster ladies uhhhhh SIGN ME UP, Eventual Smut, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, POV Third Person, SMUT IS IN CHAPTER 5 WARNING, Story told out of order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-10 05:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goatalicious/pseuds/Goatalicious
Summary: A collection of canon-verse or slight au ficlets/snippets for Clare/Jean.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ValensHawke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValensHawke/gifts).



> Posted to AO3 by request.  
> WARNING: contains cuddles

Clares pretty adamant at first that Jean go off and do her own thing after Witches Maw. She mostly sort of ignores Jeans footfalls behind her, hoping that she'll get tired of the silence. After several days, she starts to fall slightly behind. It isn't until Clare finally sneaks more than a glance that she notes the bruises and wounds that aren't healing as well as they should. It could be from not using yoki, but Clare eventually realizes that Jean practically hasn't slept since leaving Rifuls lair.

"You're going to destroy yourself if you keep going on like this." Jean doesn't say anything as she washes off.

That night, Clare sets up a fire and Jean wordlessly goes off, never quite far, to hunt. She returns with a rabbit carcass. Clare gets up to retrieve it from her.

"You need sleep. I will take first watch."

Jean nods, staking her sword next to Clares. Once they've ate their fill and the fire has burned into embers, Clare settles down against her sword.

Clare resists the urge to roll her eyes, or worse, let the echoes of her own past affect her. "You can actually sleep." Jean opens her eyes and sighs, no longer pretending.

"I won't leave Jean." 

"Are you sure of that?"

Clare turns her head at that. Jean has every reason not to trust she won't up and leave in the middle of the night. "Fine." Clare reaches out for her shoulders, Jean stiffens but allows herself to be moved so her head rests on Clares thighs.

"Now I can't leave." 

Jean eventually relaxes, not before shooting Clare a slightly bewildered, but amused look that she pretends to ignore.


	2. bad love hurts but somehow good love hurts me worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To expand a bit, this is just a slight AU now where theres ALOT more time between them leaving Witches Maw and Rafaela finding them. Story told out of order cuz uhhhhhhhhhhhh I'm writing these moments as I think of them. Find out why Jean would be afraid of Clare in another chapter to come ;)
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter is probably my favorite thing I've ever written not gonna lie. Doesn't mean its good but hodamn am I proud.

Jeans pace used to match hers, but now she walks slightly ahead or behind. Jean used to rest her head in her lap to sleep, now she sleeps across the fire. Jean insists on carrying her own sets of clothing, adding unto their load.

Clare cannot help but feel a pang of hurt, despite having pushed the woman away initially. _Shes getting ready to leave_ runs through her head so fast and repeatedly in nearly makes her nauseous.

She shakes her head, as though the thought could tumble out her ears. It was foolish to get attached. To let someone worm their way in only to tear out an exit. She feels herself flush with anger. She wishes she could hate Jean, but can only find it in her to be angry at herself.

A lump builds in her throat and she tries her hardest to focus on mending the hole in the ankles of her tights. It backfires as she realizes shes been using the wrong stitch. She throws it all to the side and hunches over. Hoping putting her head between her knees will quell the emotions whirling in her.

Jean left to the market not long ago. Normally the woman would’ve invited her. Clare can’t tell if she would, or wouldnt, be surprised if Jean just continued on without her.

“Clare?”

She can’t tell how long she's been staring at the dirt. Turning her head up to see Jean, Clare does her best to appear non-chalant. “Are you alright?” Jean asks. Clare nods wordlessly, ignoring the way that her questions beat against the ribs that cage them.  

“Okay.” Jean says without a hint of belief.

Quiet falls over the makeshift camp. Jean unloads what she bought, tossing a polishing stone Clares way. Its lands on the clothing she put aside, and Clare eyes it intensely. Jean has never been the type to be so flippant.

“Jean.” grates out of Clares chest.

“Yes?” she says without turning around. Clares face flares with heat again, not quite the same as before. She gets up a bit abruptly, far too uncareful and scrapes her heel with her sword. She curses for a moment at the cut and limps forward a step.

At this point she has Jeans attention. Jean immediately reaches for her sewing pack. “Its alright,” Clare grits out “My needle is already out.”

“Let me help-”

“No. Its fine, I can do it myself.” Clare says as she sits back down. Jean makes her way over regardless, reaching for the needle before Clare can. She kneels across from Clare, motioning for her to give her the injured foot. Clare does so, if a bit reluctantly. 

Clare jerks a bit when Jean touches her for the first time in what has felt like forever. “Sorry. It must hurt.” Jean mutters apologetically. Clare feels herself simmer down far too easily. As Jean cleans and begins sewing the small wound, Clare can’t help but feel herself give in.

“You don’t have to.” Jean doesnt look up, but Clare continues, “You don’t have to stay with me that is. If you want to, you can go off. You’re strong enough to be on your own and so am I. We have different paths and that's alright.”

“I want to stay by your side Clare.”

“I’m sure you do but-”

Jean shoots Clare a hard look at that. Her eyes are wide but her lips are set in a thin line. “Why don’t you believe me? That I want to stay?”

“How can I? You’ve been,” Clare reins her voice back in to be less loud “distant.”

At this point, Jean has finished stitching the wound and places your foot gently on the ground. She can tell Jean is choosing her next words delicately. Clare switches from sitting cross legged to kneeling and notes, with ice running through her veins, that Jean moves backwards, away from her.

Neither of them speak for a moment. Clares chest tightens. Her next words come out so small she feels like a child again. “Are you angry with me?”

“No.” But Jeans face is flushed red, her breath heavy.

“Are you- do you _fear_ me?”

“Never.” But Jeans eyes are wide, her shoulders tense.

Clare gets closer, reaches out and bites her tongue hard enough to taste blood as she  places a hand over Jeans heart. She doesn’t flinch away, but her heartbeat races. “You’re lying.”

“I’m scared of you, but not because of your power, or your past, any of it. I’m scared to be happy Clare.” Her names comes like a whispered prayer from her mouth. “You terrify me because of how you make me feel.”

Jean sighs shakily, and its Clares turn for her heart to race. The ice in her veins melts under the warmth of Jeans confession. She slides her hand from her chest, over her shoulder, to cup Jeans face and leans in.

“Don’t be. Please.” Clare mutters against Jeans lips.


	3. cause lately im mistaking honey for the bees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a headcanon that Clare took up sewing as a hobby some point after the finale, but with her first try being post Witches Maw, more out of necessity than for fun.
> 
> Also I know her cape isn't quite drawn as the circular cut type, but I'm sure changing one slight detail should be okay for the sake of having enoughish fabric? I haven't sewn in years so sorry if accuracy is your thing lol

“I hate to be a burden, but I need clothing.” Jean sighed “If you lend me what you have on now, I can go into town and get myself something. It wouldn’t take very long.” 

Clare looked down at her own ragged clothing. “You would be quite the sorry sight with what we have between us.” Clare ran her hands through her hair, pushing her bangs back and thinking.

When traveling as a warrior, Clare always had more beras than she knew what to do with. Traveling with Raki, it often went into food and necessities for him. Now, on the run from The Organisation, Clare and Jean had to carefully ration what Clare had from before the encounter with Riful.

“I have an idea though, hand me the cape.Clare said, rummaging through her belongings for her needle and thread.

Jean stripped and gave it to her. “What will you do?”

“I know how to stitch up a wound, how to mend holes. What I’ve never tried to do is make clothing from fabric. Look,” She said unclasping the cape and cutting the hood from the rest of it, “This is essentially a gathered circle. If I cut it correctly, I think I can make something you can wear. The only parts in bad shape are the edges. But it should be more than enough.”

“You can do that?” Jean said, slight awe in her voice.”

“I can try.”

It took her longer, and much more effort, than she had expected, and it wasn't perfect, but by the next morning she had made something wearable. Once she removed the stitches that gathered the fabric and flattened it, she cut a crude sleeveless wrapable dress. It had to be long enough to cover the fact that Jean was without footwear for now. The neckline exposed too much of the operation wound, so she used remaining scraps to make something that resembled the dickie warriors wore, but that went over the dress and wrapped around Jeans waist, giving the ensemble further security. Some of the edges she left raw and unhemmed, for lack of time and to preserve thread for attaching the main pieces. But it gave her a sense of accomplishment to have made something.

“This is amazing Clare!” Jean whispered as she modeled the finished product. She wore a rare smile that Clare had to stop herself from mirroring.

She flushed at the praise, rubbing her arm and looking down. She quickly cleared her throat and swallowed down her bashfulness. “It should suffice for now. We will able to travel the roads without too much trouble now. Once we hit a town we can buy you something proper.”

“Thank you. I know it wasn’t easy. I owe you alot so far, don’t I?” Jean said easily, but Clares heart jumped inexplicably.

“One last thing.” Clare said, reaching for the scrap pile. She also made the hood into a basic pouch, for Jean to carry what she may need.” Jean smiled further, taking the pouch and nodding in gratitude.


	4. having trouble sleeping with you next to me

Clare wakes up to the sound of restrained laughter. She opens her eyes groggily, at first concerned. Though, she has no reason to worry with Jean keeping watch.

Jean can’t keep her poker face completely straight, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. Even from Clare’s view, with her head on Jeans lap, she could see the womans face was pinkened and her eyes shone with mirth.

“What is it?” Clare mumbles.

“Nothing important, I swear.”

Clare’s eyes narrow. Jean was not one to hide things. “Tell me.”

“You snore. Not alot, but enough that I was alarmed when you started.” Jean said, amusement coloring her words.

“Have I always snored?” Clare wonders outloud. She thinks back to traveling with Raki.

“You never snored when you sat up against your sword. Perhaps it only happens when you’re fully asleep or laying down.” Jean suggests. “I’m sorry I laughed at you.”

“That's alright. I’m sorry that I’m loud. I can always-”

“No.” Jean cuts her off, before shaking her head. “I can handle it. Go back to sleep.”


	5. i sink in you like water, pray you wont pull me under

The water is near freezing, but Clare doesn’t shiver because of the temperature. Jean’s hands run along behind her ears as she spreads suds through Clare's hair. She leans back into the touch, eyes meeting Jeans. She smiles softly in response. 

“Are you cold?” Jean asks, feigning innocence as her fingertips brush against the same spot, making Clare shiver again. Her eyes narrow at Jean, suddenly dipping out of her grasp into the water completely.

When Clare emerges from the water, her hair is free of suds and sticking to her forehead. Jean leans back on her arms, legs hanging off the ledge of a rock into the water.

Clares is hungry, a hunger that makes her blood run hot. Jean bites her lip and runs a hand through her hair in anticipation. She swims towards her slowly until she can rest her arms on Jeans knees. Pushing herself upwards so she can kiss Jean briefly, running her tongue along the seam of her lips.

She falls back into the water. Jean raises a brow. “Is that all?” She poses the challenge. Clare has to hide her reflexive smile in the water.

“Come closer.” Clare beckons. Jean only scoots herself forward a few inches, rather than coming to join her in the water, pretending to ignore the way Clare huffs and exaggeratedly rolls her eyes.

Instead of tugging her into the water with her, she runs her hands along Jeans built calves so lightly that she chuckles. Jean gasps when Clare reaches her knees, no doubt expecting to be pulled in, and then gives a sharp exhale when she spreads them and kisses near the inside of her thigh instead.

Clare pauses here, looking up to meet Jeans eye. Jean nods at first “Only if your sure.” she adds.

“I want to taste you.” Clare says simply, but notes way Jean sighs shakily and burns brighter. __ Jean scoots closer, so that shes barely on the rock and to give her better access.

She starts out by chasing droplets of water with her tongue, gradually making her way to the apex of Jean’s thighs. When she reaches her destination, she savors it, deliberately dragging the flat of her tongue up through the folds, meeting Jeans eyes again before she dives back in.

Clare admires the control Jean shows by barely moving her hips and not pulling her hair. She remembers how she had roiled and bucked restlessly when Jean first did this for her. And yet she finds herself invested in making Jean lose that control that she wields so carefully.

It takes teasing the bud of Jeans sex for less than expected before she lets out a pitiful and beautiful moan. “Clare please!” she says breathlessly, clutching at Clare's shoulders at last, her blunt nails digging in fiercely.

Even once Jean reaches her climax, Clare continues until she reaches it again. She wraps her arms under and around Jean’s hips, resting the trembling legs on her shoulders. They climb the third and final peak together, one of Clare’s hands working between her own legs.

They laugh breathlessly as Clare climbs unto the rock beside Jean to sit beside her. Jean smiles and shakes her head. Once they’ve caught their breath, Jean runs her hands over the rapidly healing red scratches left on Clare. Clare presses her fingertips over one of the pink imprints of where she held unto Jean.

Clare can’t help but think about how fast their marks will fade. Would it be the same for their feelings for eachother? For so long they were told their emotions were unnecessary and irrelevant. That they were wrong to have, taken out with their humanity and colors. Could a creature built out of a necessary evil even truly have lasting emotions?

Almost as though she can sense the rising anxiety in Clare, Jean leans in to kiss her deeply. What she cannot communicate in words comes through then. The way she delicately brushes a few wet strands off her cheek screams it. Words that feel foreign but want to roll off her tongue are there.

 

_ I love you. _


End file.
